


it's better when you beg

by cherryliqueur



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Plug, Begging, Coercion, Dark Betty Cooper, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/M, Hair-pulling, Infidelity, Light Bondage, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Torture, Overstimulation, Riverdale - Season 1, Riverdale - Season 1 Episode 10: The Lost Weekend, Rough Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Slut Shaming, Spanking, Teasing, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 00:57:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16985088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryliqueur/pseuds/cherryliqueur
Summary: Betty is very insistent that FP comes to Jughead's birthday party, and FP learns her dark little secret because of it.





	it's better when you beg

**Author's Note:**

> Based on two similar prompts from the [Riverdale Kinkmeme](https://riverdale-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1356.html), though I didn't follow either prompt closely enough to consider it a proper fill. Sorry about that!
> 
> I plan on writing a follow-up of FP fucking Betty after homecoming, but that will come at a later time. ;)

_“I really want to do something special for him, and you being there? That would be special.”_

She feels a shiver roll down her spine as she remembers the dark, hungry gleam that flashed in FP’s eyes when she’d said those words. Remembers the way a hot thrill shot through her and right between her legs, pooling low in her stomach as he took a step closer, licking his lips. It was for Jughead’s birthday; that’s why she had cornered FP here alone, in Mr. Andrews’s office, determined to get him to agree to celebrate with them. And once she’d had her mind set, there was nothing he could say, nothing he could ask for, that would make her back down.

“ _Fuck_ , you’ve got such a pretty mouth.”

FP groans, tightening his fingers around Betty’s ponytail as he thrusts his cock deeper and faster into her parted lips, and she whimpers as she stares up at him from under her eyelashes, her fingers hooked through the belt loops of his jeans to hold herself in place. Her lungs are starting to burn from the little air she can manage between thrusts as his cock his the back of her throat, and her knees are starting to hurt from bracing her weight on the floor, and he’s nearly bent her over backwards to grip the wall so he can fuck into her mouth without abandon.

And she _loves_ it.

She feels tingly and wired and flushed all over, and every harsh tug of his grip at her scalp makes her sex flutter with want. With _need_.

“Wonder if that tight little throat can take all of me,” he says, and she feels a flash of panic and adrenaline shoot through her as he hits the back of her throat and starts pushing. Her fingers scratch at his thighs, trying to find purchase, and he chuckles. “You said you rarely quit, right?” FP tugs at her hair, angling her head so he can push in deeper, and she feels her eyes start to water. “Said you’d do anything to convince me to go to Jughead’s birthday? You dropped to your knees without a second thought, after all.” He bottoms out in her mouth and holds her in place, her lungs burning for air and her pussy growing wetter because of it. It’s thrilling, the pain she feels of having him down her throat, of not being able to breathe. “Look how much you love this. How easily you took me down your throat.”

Betty whimpers around FP’s cock, her vision beginning to blur as he holds her shaking body against his, until he’s pulling her off of him and she’s sucking in a gasp, drool dripping from her lips and onto the floor as she sputters and shakes. She’s flushed with adrenaline and arousal, almost drunk off of the pain she feels - something that’s happened only once before, when she and Veronica had lured Chuck into Ethel’s hot tub and she’d nearly drowned him. She remembers how delicious it felt watching him squirm under her heel, how powerful it felt to shove his face closer and closer to the water; and she remembers how much she’d wanted to know how it felt to be him, how it would feel to be forced under--

A cold shoots down her spine as she scrambles to her feet, hand pressed to her thundering heart as she staggers back, bumping into Mr. Andrews’s desk behind her. FP arches an eyebrow, reaching down to stroke his cock, still dripping with her spit - from being _shoved down her throat_. Something she’d _loved_.

“You alright there, Betty?” FP asks, voice nonchalant as she teeters between panic and intoxicating lust.

“I...” She licks her lips, her hand sliding up to her throat, remembering how his cock had stretched her out, how it kept her from breathing. “I just...”

“You know, I didn’t expect you to look so fucking blissed out to have me down your throat.” He tilts his head, his eyes glinting. “You’re always such a perfect girl, so eager to please. But that’s not what that was about, wasn’t it?” Betty shakes her head with a jerk, and FP grabs her hand and pulls it to his cock; he’s hard and pulsing against her palm as she squeezes him, and a shiver rolls down her spine, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. He’s thick and hard and pulsing with arousal, for _her,_ and she knows she shouldn’t love it as much as she does. “Tell me what’s stopping you, baby girl. Because right now I want to bend you over this desk and fuck you until you’re screaming, and I think you want it, too.” He grabs her ponytail and yanks her neck to the side, and she feels her cunt clutch at emptiness when his breath ghosts over her ear. “I think you want me to shove my cock as deep inside of your cunt as I did your throat. I think you want me to fuck you until you’re raw and begging me to stop.”

“I wouldn’t,” Betty breathes, her strokes quickening over his cock. “I wouldn’t beg you to stop, I mean.”

He smirks. “I’d _make_ you. I’d fuck you until you’re crying.” He wraps her ponytail around his hand and tugs, making her gasp as he bends her backwards over the edge of the desk as it digs into her hips. He kicks at her ankle, spreading her legs wider apart, and she can feel her wetness slides down her thighs. “Look at how you’re dripping right now, knowing I can do whatever I want to you and you’ll let me, because you want it,too. You _want_ it to hurt. You want to remember every fucking second of it, like the dark, dirty little girl you are.”

“I am,” she says, and even her whisper sounds as desperate and wanton as she feels. “I’m dark and dirty, and I can’t be. It’s...” She shakes her head, feeling hazy as his cock throbs against her palm. She wants to feel it stretching her out and fucking her deep, wants to FP to bend her over this desk and take her until there are tears down her face and she’s about to pass out from the force of the pleasure. “It’s terrifying.”

“But that’s the fun part, baby girl.” He bites down on her pulse and she lets out a yelp, her cunt rubbing against his jeans as she squirms. “You want to know how to control your dark side? You _don’t_.” He reaches down and grasps her ass, digs his nails into her as he hoists her up and onto the desk, and he knocks her hand off of his cock before shoving her knees apart. “You stop being afraid of it by _embracing_ it. And you embrace it by letting me fuck you until you can’t think of anything other than how much it satisfies the naughty little slut in you to writhe and beg for my cock, even when it hurts so much you can’t stand it.”

Betty’s spine arches off of the desk, her hands grasping at FP’s waist, wanting to pull him close, to guide his cock inside of her, but he yanks at her ponytail again and she whimpers as her cunt clenches in arousal. She blinks up at him, her gaze beginning to blur, and he arches an eyebrow as he leans over her, waiting.

“ _Please_.” She grasps at his shirt, twisting it between her fingers as she writhes. “ _Please_ , please.”

He reaches between them, guides the tip of his cock against her swollen, throbbing sex, rubbing through her wetness, and her eyes nearly cross as her spine arches off of the desk. “If you want me to help you with this, it’ll be on my terms.” FP runs his cock up to her clit, circling slowly, and Betty’s moan fills the small space of the office. “I’ll fuck the dark out of you when I see fit, but only if you’ll be a good little girl and listen to what I say. I know darkness better than you do, after all. I know what’s best for your. Don’t I?”

“Yes,” she breathes, grinding her hips down on his cock as he slides it through her folds. He’s so close to where she wants him - where she _needs_ him - and her body is practically trembling with anticipation. “Yes, _please_ , please fuck me!”

“Use your words,” he growls, slipping into her with ease with how wet she is, and before she can draw a breath to respond, he thrusts into her deep and hard and a moan rips from the back of her throat. He grabs one of her legs and hikes it up against his chest, her ankle hooked over his shoulder, and she whines at the way her cunt squeezes down on him as he fucks her hard enough to make the desk rattle. “You’re a dark, dirty little slut, and you want me to fuck you until you beg me to stop, and even then, I won’t.”

“Don’t stop,” she moans, her eyes rolling closed as her fingers scratch helplessly over the wooden surface. “Please don’t ever stop.”

His hand comes down, smacking her ass, and she gasps. “Not even if Fred Andrews walks back into his office?” His thumb comes over her clit, rubbing in harsh, unrelenting circles, and she keens. “Not even if it hurts so much, you can’t stand it?”

She shakes her head back and forth, unable to find her voice, unable to _breathe_ \- and then he’s pinching her clit between his fingers, making her body writhe off of the desk as her orgasm rips through her and his thrusts grow harder, faster.

\----------

Betty gasps as she feels his hand smack her ass over her jeans, making her nearly drop the garbage bag of emptied beer cans in her hands as he squeezes her ass cheek in his grip, shoving her forward against the kitchen counter. Her gaze darts over her shoulder, across the empty kitchen and through the doorway at where everyone is crammed in the living room, drunk and high and entirely unaware of the way FP is pinning her against the edge of the counter. Still. That doesn’t dismiss the fact that anyone - _anyone_ , including Jughead - could walk in at any moment and see her, watch the way her eyes flutter in lust as FP rubs his hard-on against the small of her back through their jeans.

“You make this yourself?” he mumbles into her ear, his other hand grabbing her breast through her shirt and pinching her nipple. She gasps again, tipping her head back against his shoulder as he twists and twists, rutting against her. He’d told her not to wear a bra or underwear under her clothes, and she’s been wet all night, wondering if people can see the way her nipples are poking against the stitching of the crown she’d sewn into her shirt. “My boy doesn’t even know what he has. How his girlfriend is willing to walk around without a bra on, begging to be felt up, begging for _me_ to pull her cute little sweater up so everyone can see those tight little nipples just waiting to be sucked.” His twists her nipple tighter and harder and she very nearly yelps, her fingers tightening around the garbage bag in her hands. “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I bet you could come just from me sucking on your nipples while all your friends and classmates watched.”

Betty whimpers as he lets go of her ass and cups her other breast, too, tugging at her nipples and squeezing them between his thumbs and index fingers. The image of her sprawled out across the kitchen counter flits across her eyelids: her shirt pulled up and over her head, FP’s mouth latched onto one breast as his hand gropes the other, on display for anyone and everyone to walk in and see. She _could_ come just from that, and the thought of someone catching them right now, as FP grinds against her and twists her nipples, makes a shudder roll down her spine.

“Or can you come from just _this?_ ” He dips his head into the curve of her neck and bites, making her gasp as her hips buck back against him. “I think you can.” He sucks on her pulse, hard, then releases his hold on her nipples and rubs them with the pads of this thumbs. “I’d bet you get off even harder than some slow, loving little fuck. You’re too dark and dirty to enjoy something like that.”

Then he pulls his hands away, smacking her ass as her body slumps forward onto the counter, nearly doubled over as she tries to catch her breath.

“Upstairs. Five minutes.” FP grasps her ponytail, nearly making her yelp as he twists her head to meet his gaze. “Leave the door unlocked, and leave your dripping cunt on display for me while you’re bent over the bathroom counter.”

Betty glances out the kitchen doorway, a burst of panic shooting through her.

“What if someone walks in?”

He smirks, eyes glinting, and he twists her ponytail tighter in his hand as he leans in and whispers, “Well, that’s half the fun, isn’t it?”

\----------

She tells her mother that she’s spending the night in Archie’s guest bedroom to help him clean up after the party, and she manages to convince Jughead to leave Pop’s that night without her, because her mother was craving burgers and wanted to order takeout with her. It’s a half-hearted explanation at best, one she can’t believe Jughead actually buys, but he seems to be in too good of a mood to think otherwise; he’s _fine_ now, his beanie tugged back over his head and a grin on his face again, as if her confessions - about Chuck and her darkness - had given him some reassurance.

FP’s trailer is unlocked when she walks up the front steps, wincing slightly from the soreness still lingering in her hips and her cunt from just hours ago, when FP had fucked her as he bent her over the bathroom counter. She’d _loved_ it - the bite of the granite bruising into her hips, the way he’d tugged at her ponytail in one hand and twisted at her still-throbbing nipples with the other - and she had come even harder when he’d yanked her off of the counter and thrown her against the wall, her shoulder blades stinging as he slammed her into the towel rack and fucked her through her first orgasm and right into a second.

“Strip,” FP commands as she steps through the door, his back to her as he tosses a few emptied, crumpled beer cans into the waste bin in his hand. She hesitates, shutting the door behind her, and he glances at her from over his shoulder with one eyebrow raised. “ _Strip_ ,” he repeats, and a shiver runs down her spine at his harsher, firmer tone.

Swallowing, she sets her phone down on the arm of the couch and starts unbuttoning her coat. She expects him to turn around to check at least once, but he doesn’t, continuing to dump trash and beer cans into the waste bin and toss laundry into a hamper atop the coffee table. She folds her clothes as she strips simply to give her something to focus on, draping it beside her phone on the arm of the couch, and another shiver rolls down her spine as she reaches behind to unhook her bra. She sets that aside neatly, too, but when she goes to push her panties down her hips, FP’s voice interrupts with a sharp: “Leave them on.”

Her hands pause as he turns around, sets the waste bin down and starts unbuckling his belt. A hot pulse of arousal shoots through her as she pictures him bending her over again, whipping the leather against her skin - and she knows it must be written all over her face, because  when she drags her eyes back up to his, there’s a knowing smirk on his lips.

“Did he touch you tonight?”

Betty blinks, her eyes flitting down to his hands as he pulls his belt from the loops of his jeans, then back up to his, not quite understanding. “Did who...?”

“Did he _touch you?_ ” he repeats with a drawl, his smirk widening as he steps closer, until he’s only inches away. He grasps her wrists, twisting her arms behind her back, and she lets out a hiss of breath at the sharp twist of pain. “Did you play the good, perfect little girlfriend and let my boy touch you? It _was_ his birthday, after all.” She swallows, inhaling a shaky breath as she feels him wind the belt around her wrists, crossing them together and then giving them a tight tug. “Did you spread your legs from him like you did for me, not giving a damn if anyone could’ve walked in and seen you displaying your dirty cunt?”

“No,” she breathes, feeling him clasp the belt into place. “We just kissed.”

His lips twitch, eyes glinting. “Just a kiss?” He reaches down, cupping the damp front of her panties. “You mean that he didn’t get to see my cum dripping out of your pussy? That it was still inside of you, or dripping down your legs inside your jeans as you sat in that damn diner and soothed all of his doubts away.”

Her heart stutters - from anxieties or excitement, or _both,_ she’s not quite sure. “You were there?”

“No. But despite what he believes, I know my son. I know where he likes to hide when he’s running away from his problems.”

He grabs her arm and drags her to the couch before she can even begin to respond, tossing her onto the cushions with a shove, and then she’s gasping as he yanks her up by her ponytail and onto her knees to bend her over the back. She tries to shift and glance over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of his hands as he starts pulling the belt out from her coat, but he smacks her ass, _hard_ , and she lets out a cry.

“It’s about time I cleaned this place up,” he tells her, and she feels herself flinch as he holds up something cold and solid against her left leg, then loops her coat belt around her thigh, knotting the object in place. He shifts it up, until she feels something pressing against her cunt, just under her clit, and he starts tightening it in place with a few more loops and knots around her thighs. “So you’re going to stay there, just like that, to give me some motivation to finish.”

She hears a click, and then her lips part in a long, low moan as she feels the object begin to buzz against her cunt.

“ _FP_ ,” she gasps, gyrating her hips, but another spank to her ass has her holding still.

“Feel free to come as many times as you’d like.” With a chuckle, she feels him pull away entirely. “I’m not turning that off until I’m done.”

Her vision blurs, nearly whiting out at the thought of being left like this, bound and helpless, to come over and over again on the buzzing toy as FP continues his cleaning. She squirms, feeling her pussy grow wetter, her sex clutching at emptiness as the vibrations send steady, unrelenting tingles of pleasure through her.

She doesn’t know how long it takes for her to hit that first orgasm; she just feels her muscles grow tighter, her body trembling, and then a moan rips from the back of her throat as pleasure crashes over her in harsh waves. Her thighs are burning in their effort to keep her up, her back beginning to grow sore from being bent in this position, and her body shudders and shakes as the toy continues to buzz against her cunt. She gasps, twisting her face to press her cheek against the couch as her hips rock through the waves of pleasure.

Her second orgasm comes on the heels of the first, harsher this time, the toy vibrating steadily against her orgasming sex as it aches to be filled, to be fucked. It makes her spine curl, makes her hips gyrate faster, and she squirms against the belt as she helplessly tries to twist her way free. Her clit is throbbing as her wetness slides down her thighs, and her moan turns into a sharp cry, climbing in octave as her third orgasm racks through her, hitting her with so much force that it’s almost painful. She tries to listen to for the sounds of FP moving behind her, tries to plea for him to make it stop, but she can barely hear anything over the blood roaring in her ears. Her lungs burn, her body pulled taut, and her clit aches to be touched.

Her face is wet with tears, her body slumped down against the couch as it trembles through her fifth orgasm, the toy still steadily vibrating against her when she feels FP’s hand slide up the back of her thigh. Betty gasps as he switches the vibrations up higher, keening out a moan, and then she feels herself being flipped over and onto her back, staring up at FP through blurred, half-lidded eyes as he bends over her with a dark, hungry gleam in his gaze.

His cock presses against the entrance of her twitching cunt and she whimpers and twists, pleading, “No, please _,_ it’s too much, _please_!”

FP pushes into her with a groan, and her hips jolt off of the couch, her spine arching as another orgasm rolls through her, her throat beginning to grow sore from her shrieks. She feels his chest rumble with a dark chuckle as he starts fucking her, hard and deep, his hand reaching down to grasp an ankle and hike it over his shoulder. She keens at the change of angle, the way it presses the vibrator right up against her clit, and her vision nearly blacks out as her eyes roll back, her eyelids squeezing tight.

“And here I thought you said you’d never beg me to stop,” he taunts, his hand smacking her ass. Tears roll down her cheeks, her muscles almost going numb as her cunt tightens and spasms around him. She’s sensitive, _too sensitive_ , and every thrust makes her feel more and more light-headed. She’s dizzy, humming with pleasure, and she gasps when FP leans down to kiss her, hot and open-mouthed, dragging her bottom lip with a bite of his teeth. “What a lying little girl you are,” he groans against her mouth, kissing her deeper, _dirtier_. “Maybe I should leave you here like this all night, make you pass out from coming so hard. Teach you not to run your mouth.”

“ _No_ , no, no, please don’t,” she chants, her voice breathless and quivering as she shakes her head.

“Then don’t lie to me, baby girl,” he growls, dipping his head to bite her pulse. She gasps, her back arching. “You don’t really want me to stop. You want me to come inside of you, because you love it when your daddy uses you like his little toy.” He thrusts into her harder, faster, and she feels her muscles starting to grow taut as he pushes her toward another orgasm. “You love it when I use you like the dark little whore you are, don’t you?”

Her head jerks as she nods, over and over again. “Please, _please_ fuck me,” she whines, her eyes rolling closed again. “Fuck me, fuck me, _fuck me!_ ”

His body tightens over her as he groans, and she feels his cum spilling inside of her as her cunt spasms in another orgasm, tightening and milking him as long ropes of his warmth fill her. It feels as if he comes for entire _minutes_ as her body twitches and writhes underneath him, until finally, _finally_ , he switches the vibrator off. She sucks in a gasp as he pulls out, her body slumping down against the coach as she feels their cum oozing out of her. Her head rolls to the side, her muscles aching, her senses nearly numbed from the unrelenting pleasure that she’d been pinned under; she feels completely, utterly _exhausted_ , and her throat is so coarse that she barely manages a whimper when FP picks her up.

She’s very nearly drifted off when she feels FP set her on her knees, and, with a slow glance around, she realizes he’s set her on the bathroom floor. He grasps her ponytail with a harsh tug, making her gasp, and pushes the head of his cock into her parted lips.

“Clean me off while I shave, and maybe I won’t fuck you into a coma as soon as I’m done,” he says, his tone somehow amused and threatening all at once, and she whimpers as she complies, wrapping her lips around him and sucking their cum from his cock and onto her tongue.

\----------

She hears Jughead’s voice trail off, then disappear after the front door clicks shut, and FP’s footsteps make their way toward her until he’s walking into the bedroom with a smirk. He’s got a half-eaten donut in his hands, his eyes dragging down her body as she grips onto his headboard even tighter, riding the dildo he’d shoved in her ass a little harder. Her neck is still twisted to aim her gaze over her shoulder right at the door like FP had told her to, her heart still thundering in her chest from the pure panic - and pure _lust_ \- at the thought that Jughead could have come back here at any moment to see her fucking herself on this dildo in the middle of FP’s bed. His hopeful, happy tone is still ringing in her ears as he took in the clean trailer and the freshly-shaved stubble along FP’s jaw.

He’d had no idea that she had come over and over again in the middle of that couch while his dad had been cleaning last night; that she’d sucked his cock clean while he was shaving his beard. He’d had no idea that she woke up with FP fucking her sore body and aching cunt into the bed before she was barely conscious, and that she had been riding the dildo FP shoved into her ass while he was having coffee and donuts with his dad in the kitchen.

“What a fucking sight it would’ve been if my boy walked in on you like this,” he says with a chuckle, shoving the rest of the donut in his mouth, then walking around the bed and lifting his fingers to her lips. She sucks them into her mouth and sucks off the glaze, her thighs beginning to tremble as her arousal drips onto the bed. “Your pussy still sore from last night?”

“Yes,” she breathes, eyelashes fluttering, and then she gasps when FP reaches down and yanks the dildo out of her. She slumps against the headboard, her body flushed with arousal as she grips the headboard for support. “What are...” She trails off, watching as FP pulls open a drawer of his dresser to dig around inside, and then he pulls out something slim and silver and glinting at one end. She swallows, her sex fluttering. “Is that a...?”

“Plug? Yeah, it is.” FP lowers to toy between her legs and rubs it against her dripping pussy, coating it in her arousal, and her head tips back at the slow stimulation as he twirls it in her slickness, right next to her clit. “You’re going to wear it all day, while you’re going through classes, setting up for the dance.” He drags it down, dips into her entrance, and then traces it back up to circle her clit, making her hips gyrate. “And then you’re going to wear it all night at the dance so you’re dripping under your dress, ready for me to fuck you whenever I want.” He leans in, his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. “Did Jughead tell you I’ll be there to chaperone?”

Betty shivers, shaking her head, and FP chuckles as he brings the plug to her ass and starts to push it in.

“Oh, I will be. I’m thinking maybe I can pull you into the hallway, fuck you out in the open, then send you back in to dance with my boy while my cum drips down your legs.” Her lips part in a moan as the plug settles into her, her cunt clutching at emptiness, as if aching to be filled the same way. “Or I can have you suck me off under a table, humping my leg until I tell you to stop.” He reaches between her legs and strokes over her pussy, slowly, making her body twitch as her fingers tighten around the bars of the headboard. “Or maybe I can just lay you across the dessert table and show off what a dirty little slut you are for me. Flip your dress up and show off Betty Cooper, with a princess plug in her ass, maybe some clamps on your nipples.” She whimpers and he chuckles, rolling her clit between his fingers slowly, nearly making her eyes cross. “Figured you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

He pulls away before she can gather herself to respond, her hips rolling into the air, her body needing release. He spanks her ass, and it takes all she has not to come on the spot as she doubles over onto the mattress.

“Better get going, Betty,” he says, and she gasps as he reaches down and wiggles the plug inside of her. “You’ve got quite a night ahead of you.”

**Author's Note:**

> [come sin with me on tumblr](https://cherryliqueurkinks.tumblr.com/)


End file.
